I solved the case! I solved the case!” Xander raced into his sister's bedroom down the hall.
Xena was sitting on her bed, the casebook open on her lap. “Slow down,” she said. “What are you talking about, Xander?”
Xander took a big gulp of air. “I figured out who took the painting,” he said. “It was Robert. It had to be.”
“How did you get to that?” Xena asked.
“Don't you see?” Xander asked eagerly. “Even though that picture of me is totally embarrassing, I couldn't bear to tear it up. So I decided to hide it instead. I bet that's what happened to the painting!”
Understanding was dawning in Xena's eyes. “So maybe Robert did the same thing!”
“He was the youngest and his big brothers probably teased him,” Xander went on. “I'll bet his brothers made fun of him about it for years!
I mean, what brother wouldn't?” Then his face fell as he thought of something. “But then the house got bombed. I bet the painting was destroyed.”
“Maybe not,” Xena said slowly. “Robert wasn't home for most of the year, right? He went away to school.”
“Right,” Xander said. “Maybe he took it to school with him.”
“Who says he didn't take it back home too?” Xena asked.
“He might have,” Xander admitted. “But maybe nobody else knew he took the painting to school, and he figured no one would ever find it, so he just left it there. What if after all these years it's still there?”
“We have to find out where Robert went to boarding school.” Xena leaped up and began to pace around the room. “What about the letters in the library?” She stopped. “Oh, darn !”
“What?” Xander asked.
“The library's closed over the weekend,” she said. “We can't wait until Monday! We're almost there!”
“It doesn't matter,” Xander said. “The name of Robert's school isn't mentioned in the letters.”
“How do you know that?” Xena asked.
“Uh, hello?” Xander tapped a finger on his head. “Photographic memory, remember?”
Xena picked up the casebook and flipped through it. “The answer has got to be in here somewhere.” She pored through Sherlock Holmes's notes for about the millionth time.
“Taynesbury.” With that note, Sherlock had led them to where Nigel and his family had lived. “Abner, Cedric, Robert.” That was the list of the artist's sons that the great detective had made. Then the note, “Model?” Sherlock had wondered who the model was too. And finally there was that doodle of a dragon.
“I just know I've seen that someplace,” Xander said, pointing to the drawing. “But where?”
“Huh!” said Xena. “Why don't you use that famous photographic memory of yours?”
“All that tells me is that I've seen it,” he pointed out. “It doesn't tell me where. And I bet it's important to the case. Sherlock doesn't seem like the type to write all of these important notes and then mess up the page with a doodle.”
Xena stared at it. “It's not a very good picture either,” she said. “Where are its legs, and how could fire come from it if the thing is twisted into a circle and has its own tail shoved in its mouth?”
Xander thought about it some more. “Maybe it's not a dragon,” he said.
“I know!” Xena said. She ran out to the living room and came back holding a magnifying glass. Enlarged, the drawing wasn't much clearer. They could see, though, that what had looked like one dragon with its tail in its mouth was actually two separate creatures.
Xena sat back and said, “Sherlock Holmes was a great detective, but he was not a great artist.”
But why does the picture feel so familiar? Xander wondered. He closed his eyes, willing the answer to come to him. And then, a vision of two scaly blue and yellow creatures surged into his brain. Two ferocious sea serpents twisted in battle.
And there was something else. A shield. Then a green background. It was a jersey. On a kid who was playing soccer.
Knuckers.
“Xander?” Xena put a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? What's the matter?”
Xander turned to his sister, and his dark blue eyes met her brown eyes. “I think I know what Sherlock Holmes was trying to draw,” he said. “It wasn't a dragon at all—it was two knuckers!”
Xena traced the sketch with a finger. “You're right! It's all falling into place. Sherlock must have known that the mascot for Robert Batheson's school was a knucker. That's why he drew this.”
Xander nodded. “And I bet he would have checked out the school next if he hadn't been called away on another case.”
“The Giraffes played the Knuckers in a scrimmage,” Xena said. “That means the school can't be too far away. We have to go there!”
The next day Xena and Xander headed out with bus fare, directions, and a plan. They would go to Worthington, Robert Batheson's old boarding school and the home of the Knuckers, to search for the painting. Xander scribbled a note to their mother, saying that they were taking a bus to the school that their school was playing in soccer.
“I didn't say we were going to a game,” he told Xena when she looked doubtful. “It's all true.”
“I don't know,” Xena said, and then she shrugged. “Well, they know that we're pretty good at riding the bus and tube systems by now, so they shouldn't worry. And I thought of something else.” She let herself into their mother's study and pulled out the latest box of gadgets from the testing company. She picked out a few and showed them to Xander.
“Good idea,” he said as she shoved some of them into a backpack. You never knew what would come in handy.
The trip took longer than they thought, since they had to ride the Tube to the end of the line and then catch a bus that seemed to stop at every street corner. It was agonizing.
Pretty soon the houses started getting more and more widely spaced, and they saw yards and dogs and swing sets. Xena chewed her knuckle in exasperation. Would they never get there?
The trees were big and most had lost their leaves. The sky was growing dark, even though it was still early.
“Storm coming,” Xander said. He looked out the bus window as Xena consulted the directions to see how much farther they had to go.
Finally Xena said, “Just another few blocks,” and the next time the bus creaked to a halt they climbed off.
WORTHINGTON SCHOOL FOR BOYS read a tarnished metal plaque on the gate of a wrought-iron fence right next to the bus stop. They looked up at the school. It was a grim old stone place with sooty walls.
“Check it out,” Xena said, pointing at the round emblem on the metal plaque. Even through the tarnish the twisted shape of the knuckers, curled around on themselves, was just like the drawing in the casebook.
“It looks like the school's been here forever,” Xander said.
“A hundred years, at least,” Xena said as she pushed open the gate. “Come on. Let's see if we can find the dorm.”
They were farther away from the city than they had realized from the printed directions. Leaves swirled around their feet, carrying the spicy-sweet scent of autumn to their nostrils. A dog barked in the distance, and the wind picked up. Xander felt the back of his neck prickle.
“Hey, wait!” he called and trotted to catch up to Xena.
A bell rang as some students hurried past them with books under their arms. A beefy boy squinted at Xander. Another boy said, “We're going to be late for study group if you don't hurry,” and the first boy turned and followed the others through a tall wooden door.
Then Xena and Xander were alone again. “Who was that?” Xena asked. “He acted as though he recognized you.”
“He was that jerk at the soccer game,” Xander said. “The one who stole the ball from me.”
“Huh,” Xena said. She opened the door the boys had gone through and stepped inside, followed closely by Xander.
But the corridor was lined with classrooms, not bedrooms, and the smell of chalkboards told them that they were in the wrong place. Any minute someone could come by and accuse them of trespassing. Which was exactly what they were doing.
“There's got to be some kind of a dorm someplace,” Xena said. “But we can't just stumble around until we find it.”
One of the doors facing them had a sign on it saying OFFICE. Xena paused in front of it. “Xander, in those letters, did Robert's mother say what his room number was?” she asked.
“No,” he said.
“Great,” Xena muttered. “We'll just have to ask someone.”
She knocked on the office door. No answer. She knocked louder. Still nothing. She and Xander looked at each other. He shrugged. What else can we do? his expression said. So she pushed the door open.
At first it looked like no one was there. And then they saw a body.